John, I'm Only Dancing
by thatiranianphantom
Summary: Don't go too deep, into the flood. Don't stare too long, you'll poison my love.    Kensi and Deeks are falling apart, and then old foes resurface.
1. Gravity

**A/N: Yep. I pretty much write for every single fandom now. But my love for Densi borders on unnatural. And they're at a pretty happy place right now.**

**Oh, for those who have never read anything I've written before: I take happiness, crush it, squash it, and then volley it into another universe, never to be found again.**

**Thank you and have a pleasant read!**

Get case. Get briefed. Go to crime scene. Talk to witnesses. Find suspect. Interrogate suspect. Suspect runs. Catch suspect. Find killer. Interrogate killer. Killer confesses. Put killer in jail.

No, of course there were exceptions, but generally, after awhile the cases all started to blend together for junior agent Kensi Blye. One after the other, one victim after the next.

Then again, there were things livening her workplace up. Callen and Sam's constant mind-meld (they were more married then Sam and his never-mentioned wife, she swore), Hetty's habit of sneaking up at the exact wrong moment, and the constant bickering between her and Deeks.

On second thought, scratch that last one. Rewrite to awkward distance and forced politeness between her and Deeks.

She should have known it was a mistake from the beginning. There was a reason she didn't get involved with her partners. They had bickered nonstop since the beginning of their partnership two years ago, before their "thing" was even acknowledged.

Except then it was just them jabbing playfully at each other, testing the other's limits. And they had settled comfortably into a routine. And then had come the case with the Russians. One moment she was being shoved into their car and forced to the floor, then she was flying out of an exploding building, landing on top of Deeks, staying there for longer then was probably strictly necessary.

So it was probably no surprise (at least not to Callen, Sam, Hetty or anyone else in Ops), that it had come to this.

"_No, it doesn't fucking surprise me that it meant nothing to you, _partner. _I'm just surprised that you think it would have meant nothing to me!"_

"_Because it was nothing! We were drunk, we were stupid, it was one night. We're both adults, we are capable of forgetting about it and going back to the way things were._

_The look in his eyes cut into her. "You're my best friend. I don't know how to go back." _

It was the last time she'd talked to Deeks, past exchanging information about the current case, in two weeks. Kensi had never gone this long without talking to Deeks before. She missed him more than she cared to admit.

And the bitch of it was, she knew exactly what it would take to fix this. Deeks wanted more from her, she knew. Sometimes the irony of it would slap her straight in the face – she should have been concerned about the situation with Deeks being so awkward that he'd never want to talk to her again, want to switch partners immediately, get as far away from her as possible. But that'd be with an ordinary partner, this was Deeks. Deeks was the guy who wanted marriage, kids and a house in the suburbs. And she…she was Kensi. Kensi of the no-second-date rule.

She was not what Deeks wanted, and certainly not what he deserved.

She was selfish in wanting to keep him, not only as a partner, but as a friend. Kensi knew this would end sooner or later. She just figured she'd get more than 2 years out of it.

So she'd let Deeks go. He'd move on, they'd have a few awkward weeks, but eventually it'd be like it never happened. They'd go back to being partners, she'd deal with his stories of his various girls, eventually it would blend into his constant chatter.

She was protecting him. He'd realize that eventually and thank her for it. She was sure of it.

_break_

"Hey G! What's up with Densi over there," Sam questioned his partner, gesturing to where Kensi and Deeks were filling out paperwork, pointedly never glancing at each other.

"Don't know," Callen said, glancing at his coworkers. "They haven't talked to each other in weeks, they don't fight, they don't finish each other's sentences, they just kinda…coexist."

Sam nodded, regarding Kensi's tense posture. "Awkward sex?"

Callen choked on his coffee. "What?"

Sam shrugged. "What what? They had sex, it was awkward, hence….awkwardness."

"_That's_ your solution? They're not talking so they must have had awkward sex, and based on the look on your face…we need to fix it."

"See, that's what I love about this, G. We get each other."

"So in this scenario, the logical response is….for us to play cupid?"

"Exactly!"

"That's crazy, Sam. I've long suspected it, but just confirmed it now. You are actually, certifiably insane."

"No, you just don't understand my delicate genius, G, especially when it comes to my plan."

"Which is?"

"We lock them in the gym together. Simples."

"Wow, Sam. How many hours of long, studious hours did it take you to come up with that elaborate plan?"

"Laugh all you want, G. The gym has cameras. You know you want to see it happen."

Callen pushed his chair back and perched on his desk, facing his partner.

"So, hypothetically, how would we get them there?"

_break_

The door was locked behind them before either Kensi or Deeks had time to react. They pounded it with all their might, but it didn't budge.

"Sam! Callen! Come on guys, open the door! Surveillance is only fun when there's dirty stuff involved!" Deeks called.

Which, under normal circumstances, would have earned him a smack from Kensi, but she just avoided his gaze and resumed kicking the door.

They pounded and banged for five full minutes (and Deeks reminded them both of the dirty references in that statement) before Kensi finally sunk against a weight bench, defeated. Deeks wasn't far behind, eventually leaning against the door, facing her.

Silence permeated for long moments, until Kensi finally spoke.

"So I guess this is their version of getting us to talk."

"Won't work." Deeks bit off shortly. "Way I understand it, talking to someone is a voluntary action."

Kensi sighed, eyeing her partner's closed off body language. Making a quick decision, she stood and slid in beside him against the door, in no way missing how he tensed even more.

"Come on, Deeks," she implored. "You're going to have to talk to me eventually."

"I thought I said everything I needed to."

"Well, you didn't." Kensi leaned her pounding head against the door. "Since you've barely said two words to me for the last three weeks."

Deeks scoffed and angled his body away from hers, but she caught his arm before he could go anywhere.

"Deeks," she whispered, and she could see his resolve breaking as he struggled to hold onto the anger.

"Oh, fuck, come _on_, Deeks," Kensi groaned. "I'm trying to fix us."

"Guess that's the bitch of it," he snapped. "There never really was an _us_. Never will be, either."

"There _was_. Just not in the way you wanted there to be. There's us, we're _partners_. We're damn good partners. And I thought…I thought we were friends too. I don't want to lose that, Deeks. Is it too much to ask for a little effort on your part?"

"Yes, Kensi, it is," he spat, coming off the wall and struggling to his feet.

"You remember that night. You remember what it was like. As much as you try to push it away, I know it wasn't just me. You felt it too."

Kensi lifted herself to her feet as well, standing toe to toe with Deeks.

"Deeks, we were drunk. I don't remember."

"That's a lie. That's a fucking _lie_, Kensi."

Utter frustration ran through Kensi, and she raked her fingers angrily through her hair.

"Jesus, Deeks, what do you want from me? I want to be your partner, I want to be your friend, but this? Don't you have other friends who actually want…something with you? Neither of us want this. You'll see it eventually. Can't you just let it go?"

"I already told you. I have one best friend. That's you. I want this. And so do you, you just can't see past your own defenses."

"Oh, _I_ can't see past my own defenses, Mr. Deflective Humor? You're just as bad as me, if not worse. Who are you to lecture me about my own issues? God, Deeks, do you know how _tired_ people get of trying to pretend to like you? Your home isn't here any more than LAPD."

The words were coming out on their own volition now, and Kensi was powerless to stop them.

"Maybe terminating the partnership is a good thing. At least then I wouldn't have a partner who's afraid to pull the trigger because of his own daddy issues. Couldn't kill him, huh, Deeks? Even at 11, you couldn't protect yourself. We're better off without each other."

Deeks stepped even closer, so they were practically nose-to-nose. The anger in his eyes was something Kensi had never seen before, especially in Deeks, but she forced herself not to back down.

"No, you're right. First-date-Kensi. Pretty much a robot with a hot body. Ever consider that that's why Jack left? 'Cause, unlike you, he had the human quality of _emotion_? That maybe he just manufactured this PTSD excuse, just like Talbot, so that he didn't have to be stifled by you anymore?"

The words cut into Kensi more than she thought possible. She stepped back and blinked furiously at the tears clouding her vision. No, he wouldn't see her cry. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

But Deeks wasn't done. "Suppose nobody should be surprised. I mean, your own father probably couldn't even stand you. That's why he raised you as a boy, he never wanted you. He wanted a son. Yeah, I imagine his last thoughts before he died were "Thank god I never have to see what a lonely, emotionally stunted adult my daughter will be." Everyone leaves, and guess what? You drive them away. "

He should have seen the first punch coming, but not the second one. And probably not the tears.

He wondered what should have been his tip-off to _too far_. As of then, it was probably Callen and Sam rushing into the room and pulling Kensi away before she rushed at him again.

Deeks could only stand there in shock, the cruel words he had flung at the best partner he had ever had playing over and over in his head, barely noticing Hetty striding up to him.

"Mr. Deeks," she began.

"I have to apologize," he whispered.

"I don't disagree, Mr. Deeks. But now is not the time. We have a new suspect in one of our cold cases, the Columbian drug cartel. His name is Trevor Degros. He was last questioned after the murder of Andrew Blye. Kensi's father."


	2. So Cold

**A/N: So, this would have been up earlier, but Fringe came on and it was all "it's Friday, I ordered takeout!" and kisses (makes perfect sense if you're a Fringie) and I didn't know what my emotions were doing and my whole brain was crying and, long story short, I am dead. **

**But the muse was resurrected long enough to churn this out. Note: I post little updates as I write them, as well estimated chapter finish dates, to my Tumblr: n o b o d y – a s k e d y o u p a t r i c e . t u m b l r . c o m (remove the spaces, fanfiction. net doesn't allow links). Also, make sure to read this post: h t t p : / / n o b o d y – a s k e d y o u p a t r I c e . t u m b l r . c o m / p o s t / 1 7 4 0 6 5 9 1 4 9 1 / j u s t – a – l i t t l e – w a r n i n g – t o – a l l – w h o – h a v e – n e v e r – r e a d – m y**

**That was kind of a rambly AN. One last thing: a few people have been asking me to do a flashback to the night the sex went down. Here's the thing: I can't write smut. I get far too bashful. My best friend refuses to do it so I may ask my roommate to write it for me, but she doesn't get back till Tuesday. So it may happen in the next few chapters, but I make no promises!**

**Onward and upward:**

_break_

To say that Ops was silent and tense would be tantamount to saying Hetty was on the short side. Secretly, Deeks had always loved Ops. It was dark, contained, and for once, his opinions were respected should he pipe in.

At LAPD, he was nothing more than an annoyance. An "ignore him, they'll ship him out soon," bother, nothing more. But despite Sam's _many_ complaints about him (_you ever get the feeling we're babysitting a kid whose parents won't come ever?)_ Deeks thought he had found something at NCIS that he hadn't had since….well, ever. He had people who actually _wanted _him here.

He vividly remembered the day they all turned in their badges to rescue Hetty in Romania.

_I would if I could_, he had said, and he had meant it. He'd follow them _anywhere_ to rescue the woman who had given him a family again. Well, not again. Isn't like the old man ever put a paramount importance on together time. They were a different kind of family, a special kind of family; with Hetty as the eccentric grandmother they all loved and feared equally. And Deeks would do _anything_ to hold onto his new family.

But more than that, Deeks would go to the ends of the earth to hold onto Kensi. Maybe that's why he was so angry, so goddamn _furious_ when she had brushed him off after their night together. He didn't really know what he was expecting, but it definitely was not her cool indifference to him.

Like it meant nothing to her, when it had meant fucking _everything _to him.

He knew the typical length of law enforcement partnerships – a few years, maybe five to seven if you were lucky. Deeks couldn't imagine being without Kensi in seven years. Deeks couldn't imagine being without Kensi, period. Full stop. And when things finally happened, it seemed like he never would have to be.

And then the next morning, she was gone.

When he saw her at work, she greeted him as usual. As if nothing had changed, except everything had changed.

And two hours later in their car, when he finally gathered the courage to mention it, she didn't even look up from her iPad.

"Sorry about that, Deeks. I was drunk. I barely remember it, actually. Did I say something really stupid? Embarrass myself? Oh God…was it really bad?"

It was as if meant nothing more to her than one of their usual Friday movie nights.

Like she had felt absolutely nothing.

And Deeks was positive it would have hurt far less if she'd just stabbed him in the chest, right there.

In the next few weeks, nothing changed. Which was probably why Deeks had just stopped talking (he knows how much that would shock some of his old LAPD colleagues). He couldn't say one word to Kensi without wanting to shake her hard and demand to know why this was so goddamn easy for her, why she could just forget about them, when it was all he thought about.

And the more silent he stayed, the angrier he got. The anger built and built until it was all he had. Until it drowned out that horrible little voice that kept gleefully suggesting _she doesn't want you either, shithead. Shouldn't be surprised, not like anyone ever has._

Until he was convinced he was so fucking stupid to think Kensi was different than anyone else.

And then she drove the knife in further.

_God, Deeks, do you know how __tired__ people get of trying to pretend to like you? Your home isn't here any more than LAPD._

And just like that, his new home and his new family were ripped away from him. The best two years of Deeks' life, the best partnership, the best friend he had ever had was gone.

And then he really did have nothing.

And then the cruelest words he could think of were flying out, and there were tears rolling down his part – down Kensi's cheeks and oh, God, he made her cry.

Then there was Callen and Sam and Hetty and Deeks isn't really sure how he got to this point, but Ops and NCIS were not his safe places anymore.

_break_

The tear tracks were still there. Deeks could see them as he snuck a glance at his partner out of the corner of his eye. Her cheeks were red, as if she'd angrily tried to wipe them away, but her beautiful mismatched eyes were still red and wet.

_._

The last time Deeks had seen Kensi cry was when she told Talbot about Jack.

_He said life over there was like…falling through the sky. And coming home to me…coming home to me felt like…hitting the ground. _

_Ever consider that that's why Jack left? 'Cause, unlike you, he had the human quality of __emotion__? That maybe he just manufactured this PTSD excuse, just like Talbot, so that he didn't have to be stifled by you anymore?_

The words wouldn't leave him. He had called his partner, his brave, strong, empathetic partner a human robot that deserved to have everyone she loved leave her.

And now she was crying because of him, and he was everything he never wanted to be.

_Jesus, Marty, why don't you just slap her around a little, huh? Show her who's boss?_

His feet moved on their own as he strode toward her, hands outstretched.

"Kens…"

Sam's tall form immediately stood in the way, as Callen pulled Kensi off to the side.

"I _really_ don't think that's a good idea, Deeks."

"But I have to talk to her. I have to apologize."

"Little late for that now, Deeks. Just focus on the case."

And Deeks glanced at Kensi, who was currently shaking her arm free of Callen, wiping furiously at the one tear that had escaped, and realized Sam was right. There was nothing he could do right now.

_break_

"I didn't do shit." Trevor Degros snapped, glowering at Deeks and Callen from the other end of the table.

The way LAPD told it; he had caused quite a stir when they tried to arrest him. Drug and alcohol tests had been sent out immediately, but Hetty had urged them not to wait for the results to interrogate the scruffy, middle-aged man.

"I have a bit of trouble believing that, Mr. Degros," Callen observed calmly. "You've been implicated on many, _many_ drug charges, including your involvement in a Columbian drug cartel headed by a Mr…Juan Lehder."

"Them charges never stuck, and I ain't involved in no drug cartel…"

"Which was connected to the murder of Marines David Jones, Robert Shoesmith, Andrew Blye, and John Reyes, among others never officially pinned to the case," Callen continued, as if Degros had never spoken.

Deeks noticed an unmistakable reaction on the third name. Degros' eyes lit, whether it was due to rage or delight, Deeks couldn't quite tell.

"Never heard of them."

"Once again, Mr. Degros, I'd disagree. I'm pretty sure you've heard of all of them."

Deeks slid a few photos out of a folder and spread them out before the man. Deeks' eyes caught one in particular. The man in the second photo had unmistakably familiar bone structure, as well as two mismatched eyes that Deeks knew very well.

Andrew Blye. Kensi's father.

_So your father and you were close?_

_Very. Best friends._

Degros' eyes slid to the second photo as well. His hands lifted to rest on top of it, and a long, dirty nail scratched down Andrew Blye's face.

"Ahh, so you do recognize him," Callen smiled. "Care to tell us from where?"

A small smile crept up Degros' face.

"Oh, you Navy cops got no idea. You just got no idea how deep this goes. I ain't tellin' you shit, but keep this in mind: don't be so quick to assume who the good guys are."

His index finger tapped rhythmically on the image of Andrew Blye.

" 'cause you may think that you haulin' me in is gonna put the real bad guy in jail. But this Blye asshole? He'd know better."

**A/N #2: I forgot to say that wow, you guys are amazing. Seven reviews and hits galore for **_**one **_**chapter? I feel very welcome in your fandom :P. **


	3. What Will Be

**A/N: Annnnndd here comes the smut. Let's make this clear: I did not write this smut. My roommate did, and I am so proud of her for being able to write Het smut :P I get far too bashful to write smut, so she had to do it for me and we got into one of those "we shall never speak of this again" moments. **

**So, kiddies, avert your eyes if you are sensitive to sexual content. This story will get back to the case, it's a major plot point, but this chapter is character-driven, and by character-driven, I mean smutty. **

Three weeks and two days ago. That was how long it had been. Not that Deeks was counting. Twenty-four days. Five hundred seventy-six hours.

The last few weeks had been such a blur that Deeks would swear it was only a day or two. Forty-eight hours. Two thousand eight hundred eighty minutes.

Deeks considers the possibility that he may be going crazy.

He can practically hear Sam's voice inside his head. "_Going? You reached crazy years ago, Deeks."_

He'd have to be inclined to agree, but then he has always thought the worst of himself. Deeks supposes it was a byproduct of his old man and his drunken ramblings, wherein he let his son know exactly what he would amount to.

_Ain't got a snowball's chance in hell. Don't even know why we didn't get rid of you. See this bottle? This is your future. And that's only if you're lucky. _

Most days, Deeks liked to think he'd showed up the old bastard. Today was not one of those days. He'd probably screwed up his relationship – _partnership_ – with Kensi forever, he wasn't even allowed to talk to her, and now their scumbag suspect was accusing her father (who Kensi had always held up on a pedestal) of being involved in a notorious drug cartel.

She didn't know about that last one, of course. Hetty had insisted she go home as soon as Degros was brought in. She had, predictably, protested, but Hetty was not to be argued with. Kensi had decidedly stomped out of the boathouse, fuming, but Deeks forced himself to focus on the meager positive elements.

At least, tonight, he could go grovel for forgiveness without Sam and Callen in the way.

That is, assuming he even got in the door.

Two hours of frustrating, fruitless interrogation later (Degros had apparently said what he needed to say, felt no need for a lawyer, and despite their best efforts to antagonize him, he remained resolutely silent), Deeks was headed out.

Degros had been turned over to LAPD for now, and Deeks was headed to Kensi's. He knew the route by heart, so he spent the time manufacturing possible scenarios for when she arrived.

They included, but were not limited to, gunfire, physical violence, shouting, insults in various languages that he'd have to record to Google later, or tears.

That last option did seem the most unlikely.

He gave two tentative knocks on Kensi's door and got an immediate response.

"Fuck off, Deeks."

"Ironic considering recent events, but I'm staying, Kens."

He heard the lock turning and felt a brief flash of hope. Kensi's face appeared, pressed against the chain. Her eyes were hard and angry, and there were badly concealed tear tracks on her cheeks.

"Fuck. Off. Deeks."

He shook his head resolutely.

"I'm staying, Kens, if only to grovel for forgiveness."

"Then this was a wasted trip, because you won't get it."

"Not even if I use my most adorable smile?" He flashed said smile, but Kensi's expression didn't even change.

"Go to hell, Deeks."

How their roles had changed, Deeks mused. Only this morning it was her coming to him, trying to fix their partnership. Now Deeks feared he'd crossed the line for good.

"Kens, I can and will stay here all night. We both have work tomorrow, so eventually you're going to need to come out of there, and I will wait until then if you don't open this door."

He leaned against the door, as if to prove his point.

Suddenly, his knees buckled as the door swung open and Kensi's fingers gripped his shirt, yanking him inside her messy house.

He was shoved against the wall, his partner backing a safe distance and crossing her arms.

"Say it, then. And then you're leaving. You have three minutes and twenty-six seconds, make them count."

Deeks sighed, reaching for her arm. Kensi yanked it violently away, and Deeks backed away pleadingly.

"Kensi, I am _so_ sorry. I…I guess it goes without saying that I didn't mean any of that, but I was so far out of line. I was just…so angry at you, and it just kind of all came out at once, but you didn't deserve any of that."

He peered at her, noting how her arms relaxed just a little.

"Can you forgive me?"

"Is that it?"

Confused, Deeks' brow furrowed as he looked at his partner.

"What?"

"Is that all you wanted to say? Can you leave now?"

Deeks groaned. "Come on, Kensi…you said some shit to me too, you know."

"Yeah, and I _am _sorry for that Deeks. But you don't even know why this bothers me, so I don't really find it necessary to forgive you."

"I don't know why…Kensi, I just apologized, because I _know_ why this bothers you!"

Kensi scoffed. "No, you don't Deeks. You think you do, but you have _no_ idea."

Deeks took a chance and stepped a bit closer.

"So why, Kensi? What am I not getting?"

She gave a bitter laugh and swiped at one tear that had tracked down her cheek.

"You think it's the first time I've ever considered what you told me, Deeks? That's _exactly_ what I think about every single night. _Every goddamn night_ I wonder if it was me that drove Jack away. Or what my father thought of me. Or why I am as – how did you put it? – _emotionally stunted _as I am. And you knew that, Deeks."

She angrily swiped at more tears, and Deeks so wished he could hug her, but he knew she would never let him.

"Imagine what it's like, Deeks, to think the worst possible things you can about yourself, then to have the person you trust and care about more than anyone not only think them too, but actually use them because he knows they'll hurt you."

Deeks was speechless. He was an asshole. Worse than his father. At least his father was indiscriminate; he turned against the people he cared about most.

Kensi glanced down at her wrist. "And with that, your three minutes are up. Get out, Deeks."

"Kens…"

"_Please_."

And Deeks is so absolutely unwilling to hurt her more than he already has, that he allows himself to be lead out.

As soon as he's back in his car, his fist flies against the dashboard, then against the window, then the steering wheel.

He was lost. He had just ruined his best relationship; therefore ruining the best job he's ever had. He has friends who hate him and a boss who will never trust him again, and for what?

One night. One night that he _still_ can't get out his mind.

_Deeks had expected the memory to be hazy. Blurred around the edges by the four quarts of fine American beer they'd consumed, even after it was sopped up with too-spicy chicken wings and nachos. It wasn't though. She was wearing that skin-tight purple top, with the little buttons and the half pocket over her right boob. (he always wondered why they placed it there – it was immediately where his eye went, then __he__ was smacked for being a pig. Unfair.) The skin-tight jeans he'd grown accustomed to (as much as one man can), but something about that top…_

_They'd been sitting together on her couch, watching another bad movie neither of them was really paying any attention to. At some points, Kensi paused the movie just so she could go off on a tangent about the complete inaccuracy of the muzzle flash, or slow-mo through some of the more x-rated scenes to laugh at the awkwardness of onscreen touching, and bemoan the fact that none of her lovers had ever looked quite that good in bed._

_Okay, come on. She'd set him up for that._

_Cause really, he looked that good in bed! He had testimonials!_

_So one minute, they're laughing/fighting because she says real life isn't that clean and…__scripted__…and he's calling her bullshit, because come on – she's Kensi. Of course she looks good in bed._

_And then there's kissing._

_It's not even awkward. It seems like there should be awkwardness, but there isn't any. They just…__fit__. No biting tongues or lips, no clashing teeth, no embarrassing spit exchanges, just…really nice making out. With the movie still paused on a lewd shot, and a half eaten chicken wing still in Kensi's hand. (Deeks always liked a girl with class)._

_Ok, there it goes blurry for a second, though Deeks is convinced it's more from the kissing than the alcohol. But they make it to her bedroom, and the purple shirt is somehow left on top of the greasy food on the table in the living room. Her surprisingly lacy black bra was just…__there, __right in front of him, all enticing, and her hands were running just under his shirt, skirting along his jeans and tickling him._

_He wanted to take his time. He wanted to remember this – savour it. It felt too much like a dream for him to rush it – this was not a one-night stand he'd put behind him as soon as morning came. This was not a beautiful woman – well it was, because – yeah Kensi's a beautiful woman, but she was __more__. She was…__Kensi__. His partner, his best friend, his…Kensi! He wanted to remember this dammit!_

_But she wanted to rush. She was pulling at his clothes half-desperately, mumbling 'off' between kisses, tugging ineffectually at his belt even as she kicked her boots off. He decided to oblige her as far as his own shirt went, but when she reached for her bra – no. That was his job._

_A job he was very good at thank you very much._

_As he slipped his hands under her back to reach the bra clasp, he placed a careful kiss just below her throat, part of him kind of expecting her to smack him for getting too friendly. Instead, she pushed into the touch, her hands scrabbling at his shoulder as his lips traced lower. He only pulled away long enough to toss the bra behind him, before leaning back down to latch on to her breasts again._

_It wasn't long before she was gasping and moaning like a porn star. (Or what he assumed a porn star might sound like if…well…never mind.) He pulled back long enough to look at her and had to grin._

_She was gorgeous. Way better than what's-her-face still paused in the living room._

"_Deeks?" she demanded insistently, pushing at him to get him moving again. He laughed as he started kissing her stomach._

"_God, Deeks, get on with it."_

"_Marty." He would have elaborated, but he was busy._

"_What?"_

"_My name. It's Marty." She tasted really good just below her belly button. Maybe if he moved these jeans a little further out of the way he could taste more._

"_Deeks, come on."_

_He nipped softly around her hips as he pulled her jeans down._

"_Ugh…Fine! Marty! Hurry up already."_

_Chuckling smugly, he finished pulling off her jeans, and while he fully intended to go back to kissing her amazingly fantastic body, she was so…__open__. Lying there, chest heaving, looking up at him with that bitchy-impatient-yet somehow indulgent look on her face, he __had__ to lean up and kiss her properly._

_Fortunately, his hands knew what to do in this situation, and while one went up to brace him, the other slipped down to start stroking her, finding her already wet and ready for him._

"_Is this the part where I tell you you're a naughty girl?" he asked, smirking again against her lips. She, predictably, hit him._

"_You're such a perv…" she responded, even as she arched into his fingers, carefully finding their way inside her._

"_I'm not the one who's about to cum like this."_

_And she was._

_He watched her face, watched the expressions, watched her gasp and close her eyes, groaning deeply._

"_Deeks," she breathed helplessly._

"_Marty," he answered, pinching his fingers on her clit a little too firmly._

"_Marty," she agreed, breathless. "Marty…."_

"_Come on, sugar. Come on," he gently encouraged, trying to help her along without making her laugh._

_He might do that next time, but not right now._

"_Ah…"_

_She collapsed onto her back again, breathing hard and staring at him with something between sexily open and vulnerable, and disturbingly fish-like._

_Beautiful._

"_In me," she said, when she was able to speak again. "In me now."_

"_Demanding," he responded, but obediently stripped off his pants. As soon as they were gone, she took him by surprise when she effortlessly flipped him onto his back._

"_My turn, cowboy," she said, straddling his legs to keep him still._

"_See, I'm not really a cowboy…I'm more a surfer than anything."_

"_Shut up Marty."_

"_Yes ma'am."_

_She leaned forward, pulling a low groan out of him as her body pressed firmly against his, and he wasn't at all surprised to see that smug grin of hers as she reached for the bedside table to pull a condom from the drawer._

_And honestly, it shouldn't be that hot that she could hold him down with one hand, and open the condom with her teeth, but somehow her multi-tasking was a freaking turn on!_

"_So tell me," She said conversationally as she slid the condom over his length, stroking firmly to make sure he was at full strength. (He had been since the purple shirt had come off.) "Do you want it hard…or soft?"_

"_What do you think?"_

"_I think," she answered slowly, shifting her hips and sliding down to take him all in one deep stroke. "That you want to say hard, but really, you want me to take it nice and slow."_

"_Oh God…" He might be in over his head. This woman might be the death of him._

_And he was good with that._

_She braced her hands on his shoulders and leaned down to kiss him roughly, sloppily, but somehow still perfect. Her hips shifted so slowly, he could feel just about every muscle in her body as they rhythmically tightened around him._

"_God, Kensi," he moaned._

"_Yes, Marty?" she asked innocently. Yeah – she was gonna kill him._

"_More…Come on…"_

"_Oh no. You like it this way."_

"_Kensi…Come on! This is cruel and unusual! This is unconstitutional sex!"_

"_Do you want me to stop?" she asked, halting her movements completely._

"_Oh for God's sake!"_

_He wrapped his arms quickly around her back, and as she squealed in delighted surprise, rolled over on top of her._

"_Soft my ass…A man has limits you know," he grunted as he began thrusting more forcefully inside her. She giggled._

_She __giggled__!_

_He leaned down, because if he looked at her for one more second he'd come, and buried his face in her neck, kissing it to keep from begging incoherently. She traced her hands over his back and arms for a long moment before she somehow got a leg under him, and __flipped them over again__!_

_Right onto the floor._

_He let out a loud groan of pain, because of course he was on the bottom, but he didn't complain when she immediately started slamming down onto him._

_And hey – he'd missed the nightstand._

_She was collapsed on top of him in a sweaty mess, and he had yet to regain his breath. The carpet was scratchy and uncomfortable on his butt, and his shoulders hurt from the fall. The bed was right there – they should at least make it that far._

_But fuck it. He reached up to pull the duvet over them, and they both fell asleep._

**A/N: Mood whiplash much? Also, little Friends reference in there! Read and review, the next chapter will be more case-based. **


	4. Soldier

**A/N: In my defense, I told you guys I was horrible at updating. To make up for it, I tried to flesh this one out with as much detail as possible. Roommate guilt (there was an unfortunate locking out situation) means that now I have two people working on this, for the next two chapters at least. I love guilt. Guilt is the best. Guilt often comes in the form of apple fritters.**

**Moving on. Enjoy, I'm going to make the chapters longer, if less frequent. Quality over quantity, people. Even so, I hope for lots of reviews. I'm trying to break myself of the habit of alerting without reviewing. Too much to hope for you guys to do the same?**

**Also, tiny One Tree Hill reference. Only because the finale was tonight and it's the end of an era. **

Deeks drove in silence back to Ops, trying to keep his mind as blank as possible. It would most likely be one of the last times he was welcomed into what had become his second home, and as he pulled in, he made his footsteps as slow as possible, savoring the sparse, sunny interior that surrounded their desks.

Suddenly, a bird whistle sounded from the upstairs. Deeks' head snapped up to see Eric, his face red with exertion as he blew as hard into the whistle as possible.

"Really, man? A bird whistle?"

Eric shrugged. "I had to branch out, and nobody could hear the dog whistle."

Deeks chuckled. "No conch?"

"Nell stole it," Eric admitted sheepishly. "Something about me being drunk on the power."

"Of the conch?"

"I used it in settings that were against the predetermined rules. Like at home. A specific room at home."

"Oh god, say no more." Deeks tried desperately to erase that mental image from his head as he jogged toward the stairs.

"It was just for – "

"Dude, seriously. Say no more."

In Ops, Deeks slowly fell in behind Sam and Callen, unsure of his place. Usually Kensi stood where she wanted and he fell in beside her. Whole new protocol now.

"Eric?" Hetty prompted.

"I hacked into Degros' cell phone records and he made three calls a day to a blocked number and two to a well-known lawyer's office downtown. As far as I can see, he has no job, at least not one that he paid taxes for. Not married with no kids, but he's got a sister in Nevada."

"Not much need for a lawyer then. And he doesn't seem the friendly type, so I can't see a well-off lawyer and him exchanging drinks."

"Where's he been living, Eric?"

"I triangulated his cell phone. Most of the calls came from this address." Eric pushed a few buttons and an address lit up Callen's cell.

"Take Mr. Callen and look into it, Agent Hanna." Hetty commanded. "Mr. Deeks, you take the law office downtown."

Callen and Sam hesitated for a second as Eric's fingers froze over the keys.

Hetty rounded her employees with a steely glance.

"Disperse."

As Callen and Sam strode off toward their Challenger (they had settled on Patrice, but Sam insisted she would never be Charlene), Deeks glanced back at Eric.

"So how long ago did you tell Kensi?"

Eric's face immediately colored. "About half an hour."

_(break)_

The offices of Edwards, MacKinnon and Ryan were set in a high rise in one of the most expensive areas in town. Kensi had actually briefly considered changing her clothes in order to be as inconspicuous as possible as she strode through the doors.

The offices were on the eleventh floor, and Kensi mentally ran through possible covers in her head. Divorce based on domestic violence? No, way to high profile. Irreconcilable differences? Too boring for a high retainer lawyer. Cheating, rich bastard of an ex? Could work.

The _ding _of the elevator sounded, and the automated voice announced she had arrived at floor eleven. Mentally steeling herself, she painted what she hoped was a jilted, soon to be ex-wife look on her face and entered.

These lawyers were clearly on incredibly high retainers, was the first thing Kensi registered. The receptionist, the prospective clients, even the security guard by the door was dressed fancily.

The only one who was dressed in jeans and a plaid top was a tall blond man by the counter.

Kensi's whole body tensed. The man looked up as she approached and his face instantly lit in a smile, reaching out to pull her towards him.

Kensi fought every single instinct in her body as Deeks' arms wrapped around her wait. He pressed his lips to her temple, and Kensi dug her fingernails into her palms and forced herself to lean into him,

"Hey princess, you almost beat me here!"

"I'm…" Kensi fumbled for words, but Deeks gently pressed his thumb into the small of her back, effectively silencing her.

"No, I don't even want to hear it, baby girl. He's just a lying asshole, if you'll excuse my language. He doesn't deserve you."

Kensi bowed her head and dramatically rubbed her eyes, undercover training immediately kicking in.

"But, but…. what if I heard it wrong? What if she really _was_ just a friend?"

"No," Deeks insisted. "No thinking like that. We're gonna go with the lawyer, _Haley_, and get this done. He even came recommended."

Kensi sniffled loudly. "It's just…he's the only partner that's ever lasted. And we ended on such a bad note, it was _such_ a bad fight."

Not realizing her slip-up on time, Kensi's face burned red and she covered her face with her hands, trying to keep the role of devastated ex.

Deeks' cool hands on her face startled her, as he gently removed her hands and crooked a finger on her chin, raising her face to meet his.

"I bet he's sorry, princess. I bet he's so sorry. If I had to guess, I think he knows you're the best thing that ever happened to him, and losing you is killing him."

His eyes bored into hers, and Kensi forced herself to meet his gaze.

Deeks swallowed hard and lifted his finger off Kensi's chin.

"But it's for the best. He doesn't deserve you, and he definitely doesn't deserve all that money. He'd just spend it on that tramp, Fern, anyway. Did you see his credit card history, cause I did, and really, thirty-eight new volumes of Webster's Encyclopedia? And then there was this random pepper shaker that looked distinctly like something else, something….unmentionable. Now that I think about it, he's probably gay. Wow, did you dodge a bullet, not to mention the first-prize of yours truly. Now, let's go in and get this over with."

Kensi's arm swung up out of instinct, clubbing Deeks in the shoulder, and a small grin broke her downcast expression as he whimpered in pain.

"Come on, Ken, let's get this over with."

_(break)_

Harvey Edwards oozed slime from very beginning. He didn't appear terribly intelligent either, but it meant he bought their cover hook, line and sinker. He placed his beefy hand on hers at one point, and Kensi longed to yank it away and scrub it, but forced herself to remain in place.

They took care of the formalities as quickly as possible, and Edwards gave them an easy in when he asked how they'd heard of him.

"Oh, honey, who was that man?" Kensi asked.

"My pal, Trevor Degros. He just about insisted, the old bastard. You know him, Mr. Edwards?"

The reaction was instantaneous. Edwards' whole spine tensed, his fingers clenching around his pen so hard his knuckles grew white.

"How do you know Degros?" he barked.

Deeks chuckled. "Old long-lost loser cousin. You know how it is, family embarrassment but we're required to put up with him."

"Yeah…" Edwards breathed. "What did he tell you about me?"

"Just that you could help get my lovely Haley here out of a marriage that is _clearly _beneath her. That was it, really."

Instantly, Edwards' expression smoothed.

"That I can certainly help you with, Haley." He arranged some papers on his desk, stacking her documents into one pile.

"Come back in a week, and we'll make this divorce a quick one."

Kensi stood and forced herself to extend her hand, giving another loud sniffle for effect.

"Thank you, Mr. Edwards. Thank you so much."

_(break)_

"Well, he definitely knows something," Deeks commented as soon as they were out of the building.

"Maybe something to do with Lance Cahn."

"Who?"

"Nobody, just a random name that popped into my head." Kensi grumbled. "Look Deeks, thanks for helping maintain my cover, but you can go now."

"Great. Where are we going?"

"Together? Nowhere. Leave, Deeks."

"Absolutely. Don't need to tell me twice. Where are we headed next?"

"Not. We." Kensi growled.

Deeks laid a hand on her arm gently, managing to keep it there for about a millisecond before she jerked away as if burned.

"Come on, Kens. I'll apologize a million times if that's what it takes. But you look like you have a plan, which makes it our plan. We –"

"_No._ There is no _us, _Deeks. I'm leaving now, and if you follow me, any chance of you ever seeing me again will vanish. Walk away now."

"Kens…"

But she was already gone, her ponytail disappearing around the corner. Deeks considered following her, but if there was anyone he knew, it was Kensi, and she didn't respond well to being hounded when she was already angry. Best to just let her cool off, and head back to Ops to brief Hetty, Sam and Callen.

_(break)_

"That could be anyone," Deeks insisted. "Photoshop! It could be Photoshop!"

"Only if Photoshop is good enough to fool facial recognition. It's Andrew Blye. More specifically, Andrew Blye, shooting up. And not for the first time, look at his arms. They're covered in track marks."

"I know what track marks look like, Eric!" Deeks passed a hand over his face. This would kill Kensi. Absolutely kill her. The photo, along with several others like it, had been found on Degros' computer, buried in his hard drive. Callen and Sam hadn't found much other suspicious items at Degros' house, but his laptop had given them all the evidence they needed.

"What the hell is this from, Eric?"

The intelligence analyst shrugged.

"Hetty seems to think that in addition to being involved in Kensi' father's murder, Degros had connections to the top of the Lehder cartel. He and a guy named Lance Cahn were the succeeding top dogs before it went underground fifteen years ago, along with…."

"Andrew Blye," Deeks breathed.

"Yes, Mr. Deeks," Hetty's voice came from the door.

"Hetty…that name, Lance Cahn, Kensi mentioned it when we were leaving the lawyer's office. And he was _way_ spooked when we mentioned Degros. Not a great poker face, for a lawyer."

"I assume you assured Ms. Blye that she had no place in the investigation, Mr. Deeks?"

Deeks chucked wryly. "Hetty, it's _Kensi_. You know Kensi, right? Brunette, about 5'9, female Jason Bourne? This is her father. The man she holds on a pedestal. And she's an agent with a badge, even if she's not on the investigation. I can't stop her. Couldn't if I tried. By taking her off, all we've done is take away backup."

Hetty regarded Deeks steadily, then nodded slowly.

"Very well. Mr. Deeks, I don't believe we'll be needing your service on this investigation either. Effective immediately, what you do is….up to you."

Deeks released the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding and nearly hugged Hetty, but she dodged before he could. He passed a hand through his hair, a bit lighter than before.

"Hell of a last case," he mumbled.

Not quietly enough, apparently. Or Nell just had ears like a hawk.

"Last case, Deeks?"

"Well, yeah. Kensi hates me now, and I was never an agent. You guys never needed an LAPD liaison to begin with, so after this, after I get her through this safe, I'm thinking this is it for me."

Eric looked at Deeks incredulously.

"You think it's that easy to get rid of us? Have we not _told _you Callen and Sam's story of The Great Pizza Fight of '04? There were four sailors in the boathouse at the time, and all of them blushed. I'm fairly certain there is still a gaping hole in the wall."

Deeks chuckled sadly. "You didn't hear what I said to her, guys. I wouldn't forgive me, either. But first thing's first. Where the hell is she?"

Eric held up his hands. "We wouldn't know, man. The only person who'd know is the person who knows her best."

"Me."

"You," Eric and Nell confirmed in unison.

"Thanks for that, Neric. Well, she'd never go home, she knows it'd be the first place we'd check. She'd go to the last place we'd possibly look for her."

_(break)_

The key slid in easily, although the place had remained unoccupied for the last few days.

Deeks immediately went for the bedroom. He'd purposely stalled in getting here, to give her time to make herself at home. Still, he was unprepared for the sight that met him.

His first thought was how young and peaceful she looked asleep.

His second thought was that this was the first time (and probably the last), that he'd catch Kensi Blye, asleep in his bed.


	5. Demons

**A/N: Yeah, I have no excuses. The muse ran away, until I found her vacationing in Hawaii, and demanded to know why she got a vacation and I didn't. I have her locked in a cage now. Some may say that's cruel, but I say you have to be cruel to be kind. **

**Much as I may try to move the plot forward, it's a-movin' slow. **

**I'm also about 500 words into a new chapter of No Voice. It involves drunk!Kensi venting to Eric, so I'm enjoying it :P**

He was surprised the carpet looked none the worse for wear. Deeks had been pacing steadily for a good ninety minutes, too reluctant to wake Kensi, but unwilling to leave. She would come to him for help when she was ready, he knew.

He needn't have worried, though. Three seconds later, he heard the "stop staring at me, Deeks," that he had been waiting for.

"You fell asleep in my bed, Kens."

"Don't call me that. And I just came to get my stuff. Then as soon as possible, I want you back at LAPD."

"No."

"_No?" _

"That's right. No. You're not getting rid of me that easily." Deeks braced himself in front of Kensi, planting his feet so that she had no access to the door. Unfortunately, that _gave_ her access to the file Deeks had stuck haphazardly in his bag. Deeks realized a second too late, and Kensi had the file open before he could stop her. Deeks took in the look on her face as she read the words he had most wanted to keep away from her.

He hadn't thought it was possible to feel any worse, but the look on Kensi's face was shattering.

Still, he hadn't expected the folder to slap him across the face with as much force as Kensi could muster.

"You bastard." Her voice was quiet. Deadly. But just for a moment, Deeks caught a glimpse of fifteen-year-old Kensi, as she was told her hero would never come home.

And if he thought the folder hurt, her fists were worse. She hit him over and over, eyes shining with tears. Deeks finally grabbed her arms, but she resisted, her face an incredible mix of hurt, anger and betrayal.

"_My father was not a drug addict."_

Deeks imagined that it might have been less painful to just let her keep hitting him. To watch his partner, who he knew to be tougher than most men, was striking him with ineffectual, randomly aimed blows, and Deeks caught the very distinct glint of tears in her eyes.

And Marty Deeks hated every single person who ever contributed to putting this much pain in his partner's eyes.

"Kens," he murmured, feeling her blows have less and less effect.

"Kensi, sit down. Sit down, sweetheart." He shepherded her to a chair, alarmed when the term of endearment has no effect on her, and she follows him complacently. She sat ramrod straight, and the tension between them was equivalent to what Deeks guessed is about five third-world countries.

"Kens," he started, mentally cursing whatever federal agency failed to print a "How To Tell Your Partner That You May Or May Not Be A Little Bit In Love With That Her Father Is A Probable Murderer and Drug Addict" brochure, that he had no idea what to tell her, how to comfort her, how to tell her that he was still the same person. That she could still trust him. But the moment he tried to move closer to her, she pressed herself closer to the other end of the couch.

Deeks gave a heavy sigh.

"Kens, we talked to a guy who used to know your father. He says…he says that your father was involved in the cartel. He says he and a bunch of other soldiers saw him using."

"He's a criminal. He's a _liar_!" Kensi hissed fiercely.

"Kens…"

"_Don't call me that."_

Her voice chilled him, so cold and angry. Deeks didn't know how to tell her, especially considering recent history, that they are still _them. _That he only wanted the best for her, only wanted to protect her, and he hated _so much_ that this is happening to her.

"Kens, we talked to the coroner. His arms were covered in track marks. There were traces of heroin in his system."

"It's been fifteen years. He doesn't remember. He's wrong."

Deeks placed his hand over hers. "Kens…"

And her fist came down on him again, but this time, it connected.

"Fuck you, Detective Deeks. My father was not a drug addict. He was not in a drug cartel, and he is _not_ a murderer. And I'm going to prove it."

And with that, she took off, slamming the door in his face.

_**(*)**_

When he finally does make his way back to the Ops center, he still kept the fervent - yet, he knows, futile – hope that she'll be there. It was no real surprise when he found her desk, Ops, the locker room, and the gym empty. He knows her well enough to know that she will absolutely not head straight back to the gym. The sting of their fight, the harshness of their words still lingers weeks later. Just one more thing he'd robbed her of. Add that to the rapidly growing list.

He hated to admit that he has no idea where she is, but he doesn't.

As he walks as slowly as possible towards Ops, he hears Sam's voice on the phone. It sounds different than usual, Deeks noted.

_(What? He's a detective, he detects.)_

"Jada, I can't. No, it's just not going to work then." 

Jada. The woman Sam was all but in love with. The last they had heard of her was during her terrorist brother's case. Deeks had assumed that was the end of Sam and Jada, particularly with his wife Ada at home.

_Sam is the most honorable man I know, _he remembers Kensi saying. Deeks hopes her faith is justified. Even so, he hid behind a pillar and listens.

"I guess. No, of course I'm looking forward to it. I'm just kind of…in public now. Call me later? I should be off around six."

_Couldn't possibly be what it sounded like_, Deeks insisted internally. _Sam would never. Even if that smile is one I've seen before. _

As soon as Sam hung up the phone, Deeks purposely knocked his arm against the pillar he had been hiding behind, waiting until Sam noticed him before entering.

"Hey, did I hear you say Jada?" he questioned.

"Nope." Sam replied smoothly. "Haven't spoken to Jada since her brother's case. Why?"

Deeks was sure Sam could feel the accusation in his gaze, but let's face it; he had better things to worry about.

"No reason. Just wondering."

_**(*)**_

Deeks supposes he should have taken it as a bad sign when even _Hetty_ looked reluctant as they gathered in Ops.

"Good afternoon," she intoned silently. "Mr. Deeks, do you know anything of Ms. Blye's whereabouts?"

With a wry chuckle, Deeks shook his head. Hetty nodded solemnly.

"In this rare occasion, this may actually help us. It goes without saying that what we're about to discuss is absolutely confidential. Under normal circumstances, I'd consider it Kensi's business, not to be discussed with her coworkers. But this is far from normal circumstances. Therefore, listen and do not spread this information."

Hetty gestured to Nell, who called up an image of a woman on her screen. Deeks approximated her age to around forty, but her eyes struck her. He knew those eyes, some may say too well.

"This is Kayla Blye," Hetty began. "In 1987, Kayla Blye was hospitalized for an attempted suicide. Reports indicated Andrew Blye was deployed overseas, while his wife locked herself inside her bathroom and slit her wrists. Nine-one-one caller was her four-year-old daughter."

"Kensi," Deeks breathed.

"Yes. Ms. Blye was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and given medication. However, reports indicate that Ms. Blye left her daughter with her husband and ran away in 1993."

"She left her ten-year-old daughter?" Deeks said incredulously. "How could she do that?"

"Mental illness is easily judged, Mr. Deeks," Hetty replied calmly. "We should not be so quick to assume fault."

"At the same time," Nell interjected, "Andrew Blye was reportedly moving up in the Lehder drug cartel. He gained the trust of trusted officers, and worked his way quickly through the ranks. Sometimes, that would mean assassinations. According to the other members apprehended, Andrew Blye never had much trouble with that."

Deeks' head was spinning. "What am I supposed to tell Kensi?"

"At the time, Mr. Deeks, Ms. Blye is not involved in the investigation. It is not her business."

"Hetty, her father was a murderer. And a drug addict. And she knows this. She's out to prove that he's innocent, and there is no telling what she'd do to achieve that."

"Mr. Deeks, do you mean to say that Ms. Blye is now on a mission to prove her father's innocence? And you have no clue how to find her?"

"That's about the size of it. And I seriously doubt she'd want to talk to me."

"Sometimes, Mr. Deeks, the people we want least are those we need the most. Ms. Blye could quite easily run into trouble. Find her. As soon as possible."

**A/N#2: Hoo boy, was that a crappy ending. Reviews anyway?**


	6. Nowhere Warm

**A/N: So I had abandoned this story. Had to look it up to remember the plotline, figured Blye, K., and the following season and a half had rendered this way too AU. But then you guys and your incredible interest in this story convinced me to bring it back, and now I can only hope this isn't too horribly disappointing. **

**Also, I seem to have returned to my usual method of plotting out stories: saying screw plotting and planning and flying by the seat of my pants. **

So, he'd lost her again.

Great.

Just freaking great.

"Oh, no no, Deeks," his inner voice snarls. "Not only did you lose her, you lost her with the knowledge that her father is a known drug addict with connections to an easily findable drug cartel, who happen to have connections to some very powerful people."

Yep. He had screwed this up about as good as he knew how, and now Deeks didn't even know where to find Kensi.

Didn't know if she was alright.

Didn't know if she'd leave a trail of cartel-member bodies in her wake.

And didn't fucking have a clue about how to find her.

**BREAK**

He figured he may as well know what he was getting into, so Deeks reported back to Nell and Eric, metaphorical tail between his legs (he would have made a dirty comment should Kensi have been there).

As it turned out, Degros was still in their interrogation room and Sam and Callen had managed to shake a few more names from him. He still had that arrogant smirk on his face, but said face now sported a pretty nice gash.

Deeks had looked questioningly at Callen, who had simply shrugged and offered a noncommittal "he fell."

There were a few small-time names, nobody as big as Edwards, just a few small time members doing time, but it was a start. Sam and Callen were going to talk to them, and he got the pleasure of finding out much more than he ever wanted to know about Andrew Blye's personal life from a scumbag.

**BREAK**

"Andrew Blye was a bastard, but it didn't matter. Give him some smack, he was easily manipulated."

Deeks' jaw clenched, but he forced his face to remain neutral.

"Shoot up a lot, did he?"

"Whenever he could, just never around the kid."

Deeks forced a nod. "But from what I hear, he was basically Lehder's right hand man."

Degros scoffs and waves a hand dismissively.

"He moved up a couple ranks, but he was still mostly hits. A good shot, he was. Snipers ain't got nothin' on Blye. Was only in it for a few years before he got hit himself, but that ain't no surprise."

"No? Why not?"

Degros' gaze narrows, as if Deeks is the stupidest man in the world.

"Because, Shaggy, if them other cartels can't get him over to their side, then he ain't workin' for anybody."

His smile twists gruesomely.

"Heard his daughter was something. Think she's got daddy's taste for the stuff?"

Deeks gives a wry laugh.

"You say one word about her father near her, and you're dead."

His smile grows.

"Aw, look at the cute little boyfriend. Gonna protect your lady's honor, are you?"

"Me?" Deeks scoffs. "She'll have you tied up by your ankles and begging for your mother within two minutes. If there's one person that doesn't need someone to protect them, it's her."

Degros twists one grimy finger on the table. "Wouldn't be sure about that, Shaggy."

With a groan, Deeks flops back onto the chair.

"I should have specified that I only understand actual English before this conversation, but I'll bite. Why exactly are you underestimating my partner?"

Degros' teeth are disgustingly yellow, and Deeks thinks the man should work at being less of a cliché.

"You and your boys poked the bear, _Detective._ This gang doesn't just take people poking around their business, and I wonder who your partner is going to manage to dig up."

**BREAK**

Kensi can't remember ever being so angry.

And the funny thing is, she's not even sure who she's angry at.

Deeks? Maybe.

The team? Not likely.

Her father? You can't be angry with a memory.

But Kensi sees the happy memories of the man she idolized quickly darkening. This changed everything, and the worst part was, she was starting to believe what they were telling her.

He had gone away for a week on "business", she remembers, when she was ten. The day he was due to return, Kensi had spent the entire day at the front window, waiting for her dad to return. She had even had her mother bring her lunch to her window perch.

And when he had returned, Kensi had clung to him for three full hours, only letting go as he put her to bed and she felt his kiss brush over her forehead with a gruff "night, baby girl."

Now the once-happy memory was gone, ruined by her own thoughts. How many times had he used heroin during that week? Was that why he left? Would he rather use drugs than spend time with her? Was that what got him killed? Was his death simply an overdose?

The pedestal she carried her father on was fading rapidly, and Kensi hadn't realized how much of herself she based on him. There was a reason her lifestyle was so militaristic, a reason she lived in what Deeks had affectionately called a bachelor pad, and a reason she joined NCIS in the first place.

If her father wasn't who he said he was, then who was she?

Kensi didn't want to be found, Deeks knew.

And if she didn't want to be found, she wouldn't be, but he also knew her better than anyone.

And the only thing greater than her inclination to avoid him was to protect her father, even in death.

But Deeks had shattered her view of her father. He had taken away what stabilized Kensi, and his partner was volatile in these scenarios. The one person she _didn't _look out for was herself, and that was where he had always come in.

Until recently, of course.

He had made a promise to himself to always be there for Kensi, and damned if he was going to break that promise when she needed him most.

So she could fight it, she could run all she wanted, she could push him away, yell, throw things at him, he didn't care.

Because unlike everyone else in her life, when her anger was gone, he'd still be there.

He flipped open his phone and dialed her number by memory, not the least bit surprised when he heard only the voicemail greeting.

_Hey, uh, I don't have my phone right now, I guess. You probably know that based on the not-answering. But, uh, leave me a message and I'll probably call you back. Unless it's Deeks, in which case I probably won't. Okay, bye._

Dear God, even your voicemail is bossy and messy, he remembered telling her.

"Hey Kens, it's me. Um….look, I know I'm probably the last person you want to see right now, I know you might hate me, and I'm just calling to tell you that that's okay. You can hate me. Just…hate me with me standing beside you, okay? Because you need someone beside you, and that's my job. I'm your partner, and I'm not giving that up no matter how far you run. You could be living under an assumed name in China and I'd still never stop looking for you. Just….tell me where you are, okay? Just tell me you're safe."


End file.
